


How We Live Now

by Beka2305



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, wesper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-11-18 19:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beka2305/pseuds/Beka2305
Summary: A (hopefully) realistic imagining of how domestic!Wesper would play out as they come to terms with actually living together, as a teenage couple, with no bad guys trying to shoot them. Contains Crooked Kingdom spoilers. Chunks of italicised writing are direct excerpts from CK.Will be rated T for the majority of this fic, but later chapters may be rated M or E. These will be clearly labelled if so.





	1. Chapter 1 - The First Night

**Part I**

 

Setting: Immediately after Chapter 42 of CK. The night of the auction. Nina, Kuwei and Colm have departed on the sickboat with Rotty and Matthias’ body. The remaining crows linger for a time at the water’s edge.

 

**~Jesper~**

 

_At some point, Jesper realised Kaz was gone._

_“Not one for goodbyes, is he?” he muttered._

_“He doesn’t say goodbye, Inej said. She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing. “He just lets go.”_

The three of them stood like that for a while longer, each lost in silent contemplation. Jesper wasn’t sure what the others were feeling, but the events of the day had been solemn enough to dampen even his usual frenetic energy. He spotted the champagne bottle he had grabbed earlier with such hope in his heart, still lying where he had abandoned it the moment he had spotted Nina, and realised that Matthias –

 

Jesper felt a familiar restlessness creep through him, and his fingers twitched by his sides. Wylan, damn him, glanced swiftly his way. How did he _know_?

 

“Let’s go inside and get ourselves warmed up. I’ll see if I can get some hot drinks sorted for us.”

 

Bless the little merchling and his impeccable manners. Even now, he was playing the good host.

 

“Lead the way, oh Lord of the Manor!”

 

Wylan bowed obligingly, startling a laugh from Jesper. Jesper ambled up the garden path behind him, while Inej trailed them in her silent way.

 

It was only a short distance, yet Jesper found his thoughts leaping ahead. The kid was sweet to offer a mug of tea or a pot of coffee, but it would take something stronger to settle his nerves before bed. Jesper snorted to himself at the idea of Wylan’s pious father storing hard liquor in his house. A gaping hole in any host’s collection – one the merchling would have to patch up, starting tomorrow. What was the point of sharing a great big house with your friends if you couldn’t even get drunk with them at the end of a long day?

 

And speaking of sharing houses and the ends of long days... Jesper pulled up short on the threshold, causing Inej to grumble as she gracefully side-stepped past him into the house.

 

Just what exactly were their sleeping arrangements going to be?

 

It was all very well for Jesper to accept Wylan’s offer to live with him, and for them to joke about steep fees and down-payments. But this... thing... between them was still so new. Would Wylan expect him to share his bed? For all his flirtation and bravado, the thought suddenly sent a nervous chill up Jesper’s spine. But no – surely Wylan would want his own space. Particularly with Inej around, not to mention Alys and a house full of servants.

 

Feeling comforted by the thought, though also strangely disappointed, Jesper snapped himself out of the trance he had frozen into on the doorstep and felt his body lurch back into motion. He spotted Wylan poking his head around a corner, looking back at him quizzically. He must have realised Jesper had fallen behind.

 

“Kettle’s on,” was all he said, a raised eyebrow the only indication that something was amiss, before turning back into the kitchen.

 

Bless that little merchling.

 

Jesper broke into a wry grin and went to follow him. There was no point stressing out over something as silly as sleeping arrangements. They had survived the Ice Court, after all. Figuring out how to share a beautiful big house with two of his closest friends should be a piece of cake. Besides – it wasn’t for him to worry about. Wylan was the one playing host.

 

His grin now transformed into a definite smirk, Jesper entered the kitchen with an easy swagger, very much looking forward to his mug of tea.

 

**~Wylan~**

 

Wylan was in his element as he pottered around the kitchen, fiddling with the kettle and the coffee machine. Despite his uncertainty about returning to his father’s house – his house, now, he reminded himself – the kitchen was one of the few parts of the manor without bad memories associated with it. Jan Van Eck would never have deigned to lower himself by entering a room he saw as the servants’ domain – and as a result, his son had spent many blissful hours, safe in the knowledge that his father would not look for him there.

 

So there was a kind of tranquil familiarity about being back in that room, searching for the old waffle iron and digging out the pancake mix. Wylan had not been idle during those long escapes, and had thrown himself into learning about cooking from his father’s servants with much the same intensity as he had with chemistry or music from his tutors. Although he could not read a recipe, he could certainly memorise one, and he found that he had a natural affinity for calculating portions of ingredients or appropriate cook times. It was just another kind of equation, really.

 

Now, he was looking forward to sharing his skills with his friends.

 

Wylan felt a hint of a blush tinge his cheeks at just the thought of a certain sharp-shooter’s reaction. _Baking? Really, merchling?_ He could almost hear his voice in his head, could _see_ the smirk on his beautiful, dark face.

 

Wylan did his best to pull himself together. Maybe that beating he had taken earlier that day had knocked his head about, as well as breaking his ribs. He could see Inej, perched on a stool at the end of the island bench, looking at him curiously, but he didn’t have a chance to do more than return her look with a smile before the subject of his thoughts finally graced them with his presence. He wasn’t sure what had delayed him, but as the lanky-limbed Zemeni strolled into the room, Wylan jolted a little to realise that the very smirk he had imagined was, in fact, plastered all over his face.

 

Great. Wylan might not be able to read, but he was confident that look could only spell trouble. Most likely for him.

 

Tearing his gaze away from Jesper’s mouth long enough to realise he had been staring at it and Inej was now openly fighting back her amusement, Wylan cleared his throat, even as he felt his earlier blush return with full force. It was time for him to remember who he was, where he was. It was time to play host.

 

The hour that followed was a blur of coffee and tea orders, pots and pans clanging as waffles were cooked and pancakes were fried. He pulled out a punnet of strawberries and even managed to dig up some ice cream and chocolate sauce, so by the time he was done, a true last-night feast lay before them. Inej had paused to look at him with a kind of disbelief and the adoration she normally reserved for Nina, before laying into the food with ravenous intent. Jesper had just tracked his movements around the kitchen, saying nothing but with a bemused look upon his face, before helping himself to a generous portion of pancakes. The sound of pleasure that escaped him at the first bite seemed to take even Jesper by surprise, and left Wylan feeling very pleased with himself indeed – even if he could probably have fried another batch of pancakes on his cheeks.

 

“It seems you’ve been holding out on us, merchling!”

 

“Just another of my marketable skills.” Wylan tried to inject a bit of confidence and a smirk of his own into his retort.

 

“Well, I’m never moving out if these are the kind of comforts I can expect here, Wylan.” Inej was waving her fork at him in what was clearly meant to be a threatening manner, but the chocolate sauce smeared across her face and the twinkle in her eyes softened the overall effect.

 

“You’re both welcome to stay for as long as you want, of course,” Wylan said with a bow, back to playing the perfect host.

 

Inej stretched and yawned, just as Jesper belched loudly. The Wraith shot the Zemeni a disapproving glare, before turning back to Wylan.

 

“So, just where exactly will we be staying? It’s been a very long day, and at this point my belly is so full I could just fall asleep right on top of this island bench.”

 

Wylan smiled. Naturally, as host, he had foreseen this question.

 

“I had the servants prepare guest rooms for each of us earlier.”

 

He thought he caught a flash of – something – in Jesper’s eyes. Relief? Disappointment? It was there and then gone again too swiftly for him to make sense of it.

 

Wylan put the thought to one side as he led the way upstairs, pointing out the bathrooms before showing Inej to her room, the corner room on the end. She would get a beautiful view of the dawn through her north- and east-facing windows. Wylan could tell this hadn’t escaped her notice during the quick once-over she gave the space, as the hint of a smile spread over her features. The short girl managed to put grace even into her yawns, as she bid each of them goodnight and closed the door behind her.

 

Alone now with the person whose presence both thrilled and terrified him, Wylan managed to maintain his host’s visage as he led Jesper to the far end of the hall – about as far from Inej’s quarters as it was possible to get. It was a big house, and his own room was right next door, but he had thought that the Suli girl would prefer some privacy.

 

Or, if he was being honest with himself, maybe it was he who was hoping for the privacy.

 

They paused in the space between their rooms. Jesper looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. Almost without meaning to, they locked eyes, and the air between them seemed to come alive. Wylan finally dropped all pretence of being a calm and composed host. He wasn’t fooling anyone but himself.

 

If he was going to be a bit more honest with himself, he had both hoped for and dreaded this moment all afternoon. Would Jesper expect him to follow through on his bold promises of a ‘down-payment’ from earlier? A nervous thrill passed through Wylan.

 

For better or worse, the medik had not yet come to the house. Although Wylan had managed to forget his injuries in the face of Nina’s sorrow, and then the distraction of preparing food for the others, the tension of this moment with Jesper suddenly brought his situation into sharp focus. He had been the subject of a serious beating just a few hours earlier. His ribs were still likely broken, not to mention his multitude of other bruises and scrapes.

 

He was in no state to be kissing anyone, let alone... anything else.

 

Turning abruptly away from Jesper, Wylan stared deliberately at the floor as he began silently walking towards the room he had claimed. The door was halfway closed behind him before Jesper finally spoke, his tone unexpectedly gentle.

 

“Sleep well, merchling.”

 

**~Inej~**

 

It had been a long day. She was tired, she was rich, she was free of her indenture and free of the Dregs too, if she wanted to be.

 

But she was still the Wraith, and Kaz Brekker’s number one collector of secrets.

 

And if this was not the best use of her talents, and technically none of her business... well, neither were any of the other things she learned.

 

In a way, she reasoned with herself as she perched in the shadows of the staircase banister, staring at the space where Jesper and Wylan stood, this situation was _more_ her business to know than any of the other people she had ever spied upon.

 

After all, these were her _friends_!

 

After her elaborate yawning display, Inej had wasted little time in slipping back down the hall to follow after them. She was certain that Wylan’s talk of separate bedrooms had been a ruse to preserve his modesty – or perhaps her own. Inej thought her Saints would bless the boy’s attempts to spare a former pleasurehouse worker’s blushes. What she couldn’t understand was why her two friends were just standing there in silence, staring at each other without saying a word, or kissing each other, or doing _anything_ interesting.

 

When Wylan turned suddenly and stormed to his own room without a word, Inej’s jaw dropped. She had been _so sure_ that he and Jesper had been carrying on a secret affair behind their backs for weeks now. Was it possible she had been wrong?

 

Jesper’s soft words carried down the hall to her hiding place.

 

“Sleep well, merchling.”

 

The fondness – no, the _adoration_ dripping from those few syllables.

 

Inej smirked to herself. No, she had not been wrong at all. She was still the Wraith, and the Wraith did not make these kinds of mistakes. Perhaps she had just figured it out before the players themselves had caught up.

 

On silent steps, Inej snuck back to her bedroom, content now to sleep at last. She left Jesper standing out in the hallway, still staring longingly at Wylan’s closed door.

 

**~Jesper~**

 

Despite his exhaustion, Jesper lay awake long into that night, unable to sleep. His mind kept playing over his every interaction with Wylan over the past days.

 

That electric first kiss.

 

The defiant pride in the little merchling’s face when he faced down his father, covered in bruises that Van Eck had procured.

 

His offer, and Jesper’s subsequent acceptance, to stay together in this house and run the family business... together.

 

The bounce of those adorable curls as Wylan had scrambled around the kitchen, clearly in his element as he prepared a late-night feast for them all. Jesper did not treat his food with quite the same sensual passion as Nina did, but he had still thought he might explode with pleasure when he tasted that first bite of pancake.

 

So what had happened outside their rooms? And _why_ did they have separate rooms? That same electricity had sparked between them again as they stared each other down in silence, and Jesper could feel his body humming with that same restless energy even as he lay in his bed now.

 

What had gone wrong? Of course Wylan was still injured, and Jesper would never have tried to push him into something he was uncomfortable with. He was sure that the little merchling was blessedly innocent in most matters of the heart. But surely a harmless kiss goodnight had been called for? Not to mention – he would have liked nothing more than to spend this night lying next to the younger boy. Perhaps embracing him, or just with the comforting touch of their backs pressed against each other.

 

Maybe then Jesper wouldn’t be stuck lying here, still awake, thoughts chasing each other around his mind as Matthias’ face became his father’s, and suddenly he was sure that something terrible had happened. The sickboat had overturned, or had been discovered. Maybe Colm was even now suffering in a Ketterdam jail, or worse, being towed out to the Reaper’s Barge.

 

Jesper knew he was being silly, tried to tell himself that his father was safely aboard the Ravkan vessel, along with Nina and Kuwei. But all he could see was Matthias’s face, his body still blood-stained, and he couldn’t help but think that if such a thing could happen to the big Fjerdan, a trained soldier... what hope could the rest of them possibly have?

 

The sun was peaking through the curtains of his bedroom before Jesper finally sank into a fitful sleep, his dreams echoing the tenor of his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2 - Adjustment Period

~Wylan~

Wylan was up early the following morning. There was much work to be done. His wounds needed attention, Alys would no doubt require further placating, and of course he would have to visit a lawyer to see about the various legal formalities that needed to be dealt with. Not to mention establishing himself with the household staff and replenishing any supplies that his father might have neglected.

 

He would definitely require his new business partner’s assistance for at least some of those tasks – though he would not turn down his company for all of them. If he were being truthful with himself, he would prefer never to let the lanky Zemeni out of his sight again.

 

So he was a little surprised when no amount of polite knocking or insistent hammering upon Jesper’s bedroom door succeeded in eliciting even the slightest sign of life from within.

 

Frustrated, Wylan turned and slid down to the floor with his back pressed against the door. Was Jesper truly still sleeping? Wylan tried to think back to the Ice Court job, but he couldn’t remember the other boy ever being a particularly deep sleeper. But surely... why would he be purposefully ignoring the attempts to rouse him?

 

Wylan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He still got a momentary thrill from having his curls back. The tailoring... pretending to be somebody else for so long... he didn’t think it had changed him, but perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe that was the reason for Jesper’s silence this morning – perhaps he was having doubts about Wylan, second thoughts about their whole arrangement. Wylan had been sure that Jesper had feelings for him, but maybe those feelings were really for the boy who had worn Kuwei’s face.

 

Wylan ground his teeth in frustration. He might be completely sure about what he wanted, but if he was right, then Jesper deserved time and space to sort out his own feelings – to be equally certain. He would give him that. It was the least he could do for someone who had become the foundation stone for his entire world.

 

Sighing, Wylan raised himself up off the ground and went to find Alys. That was one job, at least, that didn’t require anyone else to assist him. He would speak with the servants next. The rest could wait until Jesper was good and ready to deal with him.

 

~ PART II~

 

Over the following days, the household fell into a rhythm. Inej continued to spend her evenings and nights with them at the house, but would often slip out during the daylight hours on her own business. They did not see or hear from Kaz, and Wylan wondered idly if the Wraith had paid him a visit instead.

 

Jesper wasn’t ignoring him anymore, at least – but things were definitely strained between them. Still, with his help, Wylan had eventually signed all the documents that now made him the legal custodian of his father’s business and properties. Even days later, he still found it difficult to believe. At least the house was slowly starting to feel a bit more like his own, thanks to some of the redecorating he had been doing.

 

He had also allocated a modest sum of money to his father’s legal defence, as was only proper, but it was certainly not enough for Van Eck to buy his way out of trouble. Wylan was fairly confident he would not have to see his father’s face for a long time to come.

 

Alys had stayed with them for the first few nights, and they had done their best to make her feel welcome, but just this morning she had moved out to the Lake House for the remainder of her pregnancy. Wylan suspected that the sudden absence of her husband had become an embarrassment for the young woman, and that a country retreat was an easy way to escape judgmental eyes. The presence of a certain Suli music tutor was merely an added bonus. Despite everything, Wylan was looking forward to meeting his new brother or sister, and he would make a point to visit Alys in her new lodging soon.

 

A source of even greater joy for Wylan was that the paperwork was now in order for his mother’s transfer from St Hilde back to their house. It had taken some time to organise, particularly with Ketterdam still on plague lockdown, but Wylan was pleased to say that his mother would be moving in with them all as soon as tomorrow – which would mark a week since the day of the auction. He was a little nervous about how to rebuild their relationship, but he was just thrilled to have the chance to try.

 

Still, that left just Inej, Jesper and himself to share the house tonight. He had taken to sending the servants home after the evening meal. There was no need to keep several of them on call throughout the night as his father had done. Wylan and his friends were more than capable of seeing to their own needs, should they wake in the night.

 

Of course, some needs were easier met than others.

 

After the first plague panic had abated, a medik had finally become available to see to Wylan’s injuries on the second day after the auction. They were no Grisha Corporalnik, but they had been enough of a master of their trade to patch up his various scrapes and bruises and remove the worst pain from his ribs. The rest would take time to heal in the natural way.

 

Despite his return to health, however, Jesper had made no attempt to seek him out since that first night at the house. For his part, Wylan had been determined to respect the other boy’s need for time to sort out his thoughts and feelings. It was business as usual during the day as Jesper helped him read through various documents, but the banter that usually flowed so easily between them was conspicuously absent. At night, they retired to their separate bedrooms with no suggestion that the arrangement might be temporary.

 

They had still not shared a second kiss to follow up the magic of their first.

 

Wylan wasn’t sure what had happened – couldn’t quite pin down the moment when things had gone so wrong between them.

 

But tonight, he was determined to fix it.

 

~Inej~

The days at the Van Eck house were beginning to blur together for Inej. They had passed in a strange mixture of sloth and activity. She would be the first to admit that she was allowing herself to go a little soft, sleeping as long as she liked and eating whenever she wanted. It didn’t help that Wylan seemed determined to cook for them as often as possible, and the merchling had displayed knowledge of a surprising array of dishes and cuisines. Not to mention, his meals were always delicious.

 

Inej couldn’t help thinking of how much Nina would have enjoyed his cooking. There had been no letters yet, and she sent out a quick prayer to her Saints that the ship bound for Ravka had not met with any ill fortune.

 

During the day, Inej liked to spend her time on the streets and rooftops of Ketterdam. The city was still in lockdown for the ‘plague’, but that had never been a barrier to the Wraith. Blending into the shadows, she made her way unencumbered around the city that had been her home for the last three years. She would miss it, she decided, when she eventually got her ship and left.

 

Especially a certain raspy-voiced Barrel boss, whose office she had taken to sneaking in and out of, leaving messages with secrets she had uncovered for him. It was from there she was currently extricating herself, casting a fond look behind her at the Slat as she slipped onto the next roof.

 

She might not be beholden to the Dregs any more, but old habits died hard, and Kaz still needed his Wraith.

 

As she scampered back along her secret rooftop road up the Barrel and into the financial district towards the Van Eck manor, Inej reflected on her new housemates. She spent her evenings in easy companionship with Wylan and Jesper, although things were definitely off between the two boys. Worse than that, Inej would not have been able to face her Saints with honour if she did not admit that things had been decidedly awkward with Alys around. She was more relieved than she would ever let on to Wylan that his father’s second wife had moved out that morning. She wasn’t an unpleasant girl, exactly, but the situation surrounding them was such that they could never be friends.

 

Wylan had said that his mother was being transferred to their house tomorrow, as well. Inej felt the slightest twinge of regret, and was immediately ashamed of herself. Having lost so many years already, Wylan deserved every minute he could get with his mother.

 

It was just... having the house to themselves, just the three of them, would make it far easier for Inej to move into phase two of her plan. But if tonight was all they had, then tonight it would have to be.

 

At first, Inej had thought it would be enough to simply spy on Jesper and Wylan. But she had been horrified to observe that in almost a week since they had all moved in together, the relationship between her two friends actually seemed to have deteriorated. Far from the electric stare she had seen them exchange that first night, Jesper’s usual flirtations had dried up, and Wylan had hardly blushed once all week. The situation was simply unacceptable, and she was determined to see it set to rights.

 

So, phase two: active intervention. She felt a little like Kaz when Dirtyhands came to see the rough work done. It wasn’t pleasant, but someone had to do it. Nina would be proud.

 

With just one night to themselves, there was no time for Inej to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The story is starting to take shape now. Sorry for all the angst this chapter - I promise the fluff is coming soon! The next chapter is called "Scheming Face", if that's any consolation.


	3. Chapter 3: Scheming Face

**~Jesper~**

Jesper could feel the itch inside him growing stronger every day.

 

There was still no word from his father, and he was wracked with what he hoped was a needless worry for Colm’s safety. Rocking back and forth on a comfortable chair in the Van Eck sitting room, that familiar old restless energy was gnawing away at Jesper. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it at bay. Be it Makker’s Wheel, a gun fight or another kiss from a certain merchling, one way or another Jesper was going to have to get his release – and soon – or he was sure he would go mad.

 

He knew which method he would prefer, of course, but he had been doing his best to give Wylan the space he so clearly needed. Jesper still wasn’t sure what had passed through the younger boy’s mind that first night in the hallway outside their rooms. One moment, he had thought – but no. He had clearly misread Wylan’s feelings. Their little demolitions expert had let his actions do the talking for him when he arranged for them to have separate rooms, and Jesper had been a fool to imagine that to be a temporary arrangement.

 

So he had backed right off. He had even stopped flirting. And far from showing any sign of the regret and loss that Jesper himself was feeling, Wylan seemed to have become more distant as well. Conversations between them now were almost... boring.

 

Jesper couldn’t understand it. Things had been going so well. Perhaps it was just the excitement of being in constant mortal peril that had made them think they worked together. Now that everything had calmed down and there was no imminent threat on their lives, it seemed like there wasn’t much left for them to hold on to. Nothing much at all for them to build a foundation on.

 

Jesper banged his fist against the rocking chair’s armrest in frustration.

 

Wylan’s mother was coming to live with them tomorrow, he remembered. He wasn’t sure he could face her with the way things were between him and her son at the moment. How to explain everything that was and wasn’t and could have been and – a small part of him dared to hope – still might be, to a lady who had suffered so much and likely would not be able to understand?

 

Maybe Jesper would move back to the Slat after all. Kaz would surely take him back in a heartbeat. Kaz, who had finally admitted that Jesper was someone he wouldn’t want to lose. Part of the tight knot inside Jesper loosened a fraction. He might not be hung up on Kaz any more, but he valued the Barrell boss’s friendship more than he would ever dare admit to his face. No doubt, their relationship was another that still needed a lot more work. Considering how scarce Kaz had made himself since the auction, Jesper might need to move back to the Slat just to have a chance to cross the other boy’s path.

 

But not yet. He and Wylan had at least this one night to try to make things work again. Jesper promised himself that if nothing changed with them by the end of tonight, then he would not stick around in a place where he was clearly not wanted. He could drop by from time to time to keep his promise and help Wylan read his paperwork. But as for the rest...

 

Jesper stilled his rocking and stood from his chair. He needed to find Inej. If tonight was going to work out the way he hoped, then he would need the assistance of the Wraith.

 

**~Wylan~**

Wylan was in the kitchen again, flipping through a recipe book, trying to find inspiration from the pictures. The tip of his tongue was poked into the corner of his mouth, brow furrowed in concentration. Although he had done quite a bit of cooking in the preceding days, he was determined that tonight’s meal would outdo all of his previous efforts.

 

Even if the way to Jesper’s heart wasn’t through his stomach, that wouldn’t stop Wylan from trying his best to find it.

 

Finally, his finger settled on a particular page. _Yes._ That would be perfect.

 

As he set about laying out the things he would need, he realised that one of the most important ingredients was missing. Wylan frantically searched through all the cupboards once more, and even checked the coldbox, but they were definitely out. The servants had mentioned that the plague lockdown had made it difficult to get all the fresh produce they usually obtained at markets, but this was the first time Wylan was experiencing that frustration for himself.

 

Maybe Inej would be able to help. Especially if he explained to her how important this was. Yes. He was sure the Wraith would find a way.

 

**~Inej~**

This was going to be easier than she thought.

 

It seemed that both Wylan and Jesper had decided that tonight would be the night they patched things up, although neither had yet shared their conclusions with the other.

 

Inej couldn’t help a small roll of the eyes as she reflected on how many issues could be solved by just a bit of decent communication.

 

Regardless, she had been assigned two vital jobs this afternoon, and she would not let her friends – her crew – down.

 

**~Jesper~**

Inej found him in his bedroom a couple of hours later, bent over his project. She handed him a wrapped package, nodded once, and left him in silence.

 

Jesper felt a rush of gratitude for his friend. She had managed it, then. He supposed he should not have doubted her, but his request had been rather unusual.

 

He unwrapped the package slowly, handling it with care. Yes, Inej had done well. Jesper spread the contents out on his desk and got back to work. It was a tricky, slow business that he was attempting, and he was running out of time to get it right.

 

All Jesper knew was that if this didn’t get the little merchling to soften up to him again, then surely nothing would.

 

**~Wylan~**

Wylan was starting to get anxious. It had been two hours since he had sent Inej on her errand, and if she didn’t return soon – key ingredient in hand – then he would not have enough time to prepare their dinner and the whole point of the exercise would be lost.

 

He found himself pacing the kitchen as he waited for the Wraith, unable to sit still. Was this how Jesper felt all of the time? What an uncomfortable way to live.

 

Wylan found his mind turning unbidden to the last time he had seen the sharpshooter bursting out of his skin with frenetic energy. He had helped Jesper to slow his breathing, calming him, and then... that wonderful, magical kiss. Wylan allowed himself a few moments to indulge in the memory, cheeks heating although he was completely alone in the kitchen, having banished all the servants long before.

 

The kiss had been everything he had imagined it could be, but Wylan realised he had had to initiate things that time, too. Maybe for all his smooth talk, Jesper was more shy than he was. Wylan laughed to himself at the thought, then stopped short.

 

Something clicked into place in his mind. Just how ‘innocent’ did Jesper imagine Wylan to be? For that matter, just how much ‘experience’ did Jesper really have with these things? Somehow, Wylan didn’t think the gap between them was as large as the Zemeni must have imagined it to be. He knew that Jesper had been with other people, of course – the other boy had made no secret of his past, and Wylan didn’t mind at all – it was none of his business. But Wylan had tried to make Jesper understand his own history, too. He had mentioned the tutor he used to meet in the University library. Surely Jesper could have put the rest together?

 

But maybe not. It was frustrating just how often Jesper had underestimated him, during the Ice Court job and afterwards. Perhaps this was just another example of the same thing. Having a face this cute really was a burden, sometimes.

 

At that moment, Inej floated into the room and interrupted his musings.

 

“Did you get it?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Wylan hugged his friend in gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff... it's coming...
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for the lovely comments and support so far :)


	4. Darkness Be My Friend

**~Inej~**

She returned Wylan’s embrace, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

 

“Looks like you’re cooking just for two tonight. I’m meeting Kaz for dinner.”

 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then slipped out of the room without another word, leaving Wylan gobsmacked behind her, his mouth silently opening and closing as a blush spread furiously up his neck and behind his ears while the implications of her words sunk in.

 

Of course, Inej had no intention of actually leaving the Van Eck house that night. As for dinner with Kaz – Inej laughed to herself at the idea of Dirtyhands, the newest Barrel boss, engaging in anything quite so  _domestic_.

 

Instead, the Wraith intended to do what she did best – make herself scarce, and spy.

 

But first, there was more work to be done. Inej had picked up a few things for herself while out on the town, as well as the items that Jesper and Wylan had requested.

 

With the sharpshooter locked in his bedroom upstairs, and the demolitions expert safely ensconced in the kitchen, Inej felt safe enough laying the groundwork for a few fireworks of her own.

 

She started by hanging out the garlands of flowers she had chosen. They were rather garish in colour, which she thought would appeal to Jesper’s wild fashion sense, but also beautifully fragrant, which she hoped the chemist in Wylan would appreciate. She took her time, placing some in the entryway, hanging a few from the banisters of the staircase, and finally she prepared a vase for the dining table centrepiece.

 

When she was satisfied with the effect, she trailed a path of petals from the dining room all the way into the music room. Hopefully the boys would take the hint. On the piano, she carefully laid out the new sheet music she had acquired for them. She placed unlit candles on either side of the instrument, as well as in strategic locations around the room, before retracing her steps and likewise planting candles in other rooms around the house.

 

Her last stop was back at the dining room table, where she laid out two glasses, and set down the expensive bottle of wine she had ‘acquired’ earlier that day. Inej was fairly certain Kaz would have approved. Being a proper thief certainly had its perks.

 

She wondered for a moment if she was going too far, but quickly banished the thought. They had one night to fix what had gone wrong – this was not the time for half-measures.

 

Filled with new purpose, Inej bounded up to top floor of the house, then swung herself into the ceiling rafters. From there, she muttered a quick prayer to her Saints that she had given Wylan enough time, before drawing Sankta Alina from her sheath. A quick motion of her wrist, and it was done.

 

The house went dark.

 

She had slashed the wiring that connected the lights – though she had been careful to leave the remaining wires well alone. The last thing she needed was Wylan losing his mind because the oven had no power.

 

Satisfied with her mischief-making, the Wraith settled down in her vantage point to wait out the events of the night.

 

**~Jesper~**

Jesper had just placed the finishing touches on his project, and was standing back to admire his handiwork.  _Not bad for someone with no training_. In a few careful movements, he had wrapped the item back in the same packaging that Inej had brought it in earlier, even taking the time to wrap a ribbon around the outside. Wylan was going to be putty at his feet tonight, or Jesper was an even worse gambler than he thought.

 

At that moment, the lights went out. Hands going instantly to the pistols at his hips - a week of fine living had not broken that habit yet - Jesper cautiously stuck his head out the bedroom door.

 

“You okay, Wy?” He called down the stairs.

 

“I’m fine, just confused,” came the muted response from the direction of the kitchen. “What just happened?”

 

“Well, merchling,” Jesper drawled, feeling more himself than he had all week. “You see, all the lights just went out.”

 

Jesper chuckled as he heard the kitchen door slam. Finally – a little excitement; a little thrill of danger.

 

Fairly confident that there was nothing sinister behind the sudden blackout, he picked up Wylan’s present and carefully made his way down the staircase, feeling his way along the banister. His hand caught on something, and he realised it was a flower – several flowers, actually, and the source of the very strong fragrance that he belatedly realised had filled most of the house.

 

_Did Wylan do this?_

Despite himself, Jesper’s heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, he was full of hope. Maybe tonight would work out after all.

 

Jesper felt his way over to the front door, opening it wide to let in some light from the lamps that lit the streets. Under their guidance, he saw that there were candles placed in strategic locations all over the house, and especially in the main dining room. He couldn’t remember them ever being there before.  _That sneaky little merchling_.  _Did he fake a blackout for the sake of romantic ambience?_

 

Whatever the truth, Jesper wasn’t about to let the moment go to waste. He stopped to place the gift on the dining table, then found some matches and proceeded to swagger around the room, lighting as many of the candles as he felt was safe without posing a fire hazard. When he was satisfied with the effect, he closed the front door again before knocking gently at the entrance to the kitchen.

 

“Wy? Do you need some light in there?” Despite himself, and despite the false bravado that had overtaken him since the blackout had begun, Jesper found that his words came out in a way that could only be described as... timid.

 

There was no response at first, and Jesper was just stealing himself to burst into the kitchen with a candle in one hand and a gun in the other, when the door was pushed open from the other side. Wylan emerged, soaked in sweat, curls askew, pushing a trolley full of covered dishes. The smell wafting off of them was incredible, and somehow perfectly complemented the fragrance of the flowers that surrounded them.

 

The two boys froze: Wylan wide-eyed as he took in the dining room’s new decorations; Jesper utterly captivated by the budding chef in his adorable apron. For a moment, the old electricity was back between them, and Jesper’s heart rate accelerated wildly.

 

Then, the moment had passed. Wylan had continued on past him, pushing the trolley over to the dining table, and Jesper was left to pick up his jaw off the floor – along with his heart. Even with everything that surrounded them, the flowers and the candles, Wylan had apparently been content to completely ignore him, focussing instead on the room. It was just like every other day since they had moved into this blasted house. They were friends, but – that was all.

 

A sudden, fiery anger surged through Jesper. He would be damned if he would just sit back and watch his chance at happiness slip away from him like a bad hand of Three Man Bramble. To hell with giving the younger boy space and time. To hell with his innocence. Tonight, Jesper would lay it all on the line, risking big to win big. He was going all in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been leaving kudos and comments! They have really inspired me to keep writing and updating much more frequently than I probably would have otherwise. I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)


	5. Chapter 5 - Cause of Death: Flirtation

**~Wylan~**

Wylan had stood for several long moments on the other side of that kitchen door before he emerged, steeling himself for what was to come.

 

The loss of light had been an inconvenience, but he had been far enough into his preparations that he could easily work around it. Even so, he was full of uncertainty. The food certainly _smelled_ pleasant enough, but he had only made this dish once before. What if he had remembered the recipe wrongly and it tasted terrible? There was too much riding on this night for that to even be an option.

 

Pushing through his nerves before they could overcome him, Wylan had not even remembered to smooth his hair or remove his apron before he propelled the food trolley through the door.

 

The sight that confronted him stole his breath away.

 

Jesper... he had lit candles. Dozens of them. Beautiful candles, that seemed to have been chosen with care. A stunning floral centrepiece graced the dining table, and Wylan could see the same flowers trailing across much of the house. A wrapped gift lay on the table near the flower vase, and what looked to be an expensive bottle of wine stood between them.

 

Tears sprung unbidden to Wylan’s eyes, and he forced himself to keep walking toward the table so that Jesper could not spy them.

 

It seemed he had worried for nothing, and that they had both had the same idea about how tonight would proceed. He cleared his throat, but could not yet bring himself to turn and look at the other boy.

 

“It’s just the two of us tonight. I hope that’s okay. Inej told me earlier she was going out to have dinner with Kaz.”

 

Wylan had managed to transfer several of the dishes from the trolley to the table before Jesper’s response came.

 

“Sounds perfect, merchling.”

 

The plate wobbled in his hand at the heat in the sharpshooter’s voice.

 

**~Inej~**

Perched in the rafters high above the boys below her, the Wraith silently chewed on some cold waffles she had snagged from the kitchen earlier, smiling wickedly to herself at the way events were unfolding.

 

**~Jesper~**

Why wouldn’t Wylan face him? Why wouldn’t he look him in the eyes?

 

Was it truly that unpleasant for him to share an evening alone with Jesper? But then what was the point of the candles and flowers? Perhaps the boy had relied on Inej being present as a buffer between them, and was even now regretting his choices.

 

Or, Jesper decided, the more likely reason was simply innocence. That damned angel-faced merchling was so clearly inexperienced in these matters. Jesper wasn’t even sure if Wylan knew what he wanted, let alone what steps to take to get it.

 

Jesper would obviously have to take matters into his own hands if the night was going to be anything other than an awkward disaster. So he made sure to lace his voice with hot desire when he eventually responded to Wylan’s announcement.

 

“Sounds perfect, merchling.”

 

To Jesper’s delight, he could see colour spreading over the back of Wylan’s neck, and he did not miss the wobble of the serving dish in his hands. Yes, it seemed like Wylan had definitely gotten over whatever thoughts had kept him cold and aloof over the last week.

 

Buoyed by the chance to win big this night and eager to press home his advantage, Jesper closed the distance between them. Standing close enough that his breath rustled the curls on the other boy’s head, he reached around to grab another dish off the serving trolley. Wylan had gone perfectly still; it seemed like he was holding his breath.

 

“Here, let me help you with that.”

 

Those damn curls, still heavy with sweat, flopped around as the boy nodded his agreement.

 

Smirking to himself, Jesper took a step back and allowed Wylan to direct his placement of each plate and dish to its proper location on the dining table. He found he rather enjoyed following the merchling’s orders when he was like this – so certain of the way things should be done. It was – kind of hot, if he was honest with himself.

 

Maybe he wouldn’t have to teach Wylan as much as he had thought.

 

**~Wylan~**

He was going to die tonight.

 

He had almost suffocated when the Zemeni had stood behind him, completely invading his personal space. His lungs had simply forgotten how to breathe, and he couldn’t seem to wake his brain up from its fog to remind them of their duty.

 

Whatever melancholy or doubts had stifled Jesper’s personality over the last week, it seemed his flirtations were back – with a renewed vigour. Wylan could only nod weakly at Jesper’s offer of assistance that was really a demand.

 

As soon as the sharpshooter had gotten his way and created some space between them, Wylan’s lungs had suddenly remembered themselves. He drew in a ragged breath, before composing himself and beginning to direct Jesper’s movements.

 

He found himself feeling more and more at ease as each dish was positioned on the table. He was slipping back into the host’s persona that had guided him that first night at the house. True, everything had gone wrong after that, but only when he had made the mistake of dropping his mask. This time, if he kept the facade firmly in place, then just maybe, he might be able to survive this night.

 

Survive Jesper.

 

Wylan kept sneaking sidelong glances at the taller boy whose long limbs had made quick work of the transfer of dishes. He still hadn’t been able to face him. He realised with a start that the other boy was dressed in what he liked to call his best ‘Barrel flash’. Gaudy colours, but elegantly tailored shirt and vest – and suit pants, he observed, as his gaze travelled lower despite himself.

 

“I,” he announced, clearing his throat awkwardly, “will be right back. Don’t you dare uncover even one of those plates before I get back.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, merchling,” the Zemeni drawled, but Wylan was already pushing the serving trolley back towards the kitchen.

 

He took a moment to compose himself behind the closed door. Suddenly self-conscious, he tore off the apron he had forgotten in his earlier bluster. He used a clean corner to wipe the worst of the sweat off his brow and out of his hair. Walking over to the sink, he ran his hands under the tap before abruptly splashing his face with icy water.

 

He had to get a grip.

 

Refreshed, Wylan towelled himself dry and schooled his features firmly into the host’s mask that he was determined to wear for the rest of the evening. Only a few minutes had passed, but Jesper couldn’t be trusted alone with the food for any longer. The whole point of a romantic dinner would be lost if the other boy started eating alone.

 

Wylan tried to channel a little of his companion’s personality as he re-entered the dining room. There was no rule that said he couldn’t be a _flirty_ host.

 

Walking with purpose, he seated himself at the end of the table. Jesper had already claimed the seat to his right.

 

Slowly, deliberately, Wylan turned his head. For the first time that evening, he allowed himself to face the other boy. Leaning heavily on his host’s persona as a crutch, Wylan stared directly into those eyes, and thought he might drown in them.

 

A heartbeat passed.

 

“Tonight,” he announced, “we are taking a culinary journey – to Novyi Zem.”

 

**~Inej~**

She had been worried, briefly, when Wylan had initially burst out of the kitchen and taken in her decorations. Separately, each of the boys would naturally assume the other was responsible for them. At least, that was what Inej had counted on. But together now in the same space, there would be the opportunity for confrontation and questioning.

 

Inej held her breath during the long moment when the boys had paused and the world had seemed to still around them.

 

She was delighted to observe that Jesper couldn’t tear his eyes away from the younger boy, and even Inej could admit he looked rather endearing with his apron and his wet curls. Wylan, on the other hand, couldn’t meet Jesper’s gaze, and was fixated on all of her candles and flowers.

 

Inej smiled. Her Saints had guided her hand well this day.

 

Her concerns were awoken a second time when Wylan had escaped back to the kitchen. The chemistry between the two boys had resurfaced, electrifying every space between them and even reaching up to where she perched in the rafters above them. Was it all going to prove too overwhelming for the son of a pious mercher?

 

It seems she needn’t have worried. Wylan emerged from his retreat animated by a confidence she had rarely seen in him before. Inej was fairly certain it was false bravado, but even so, the boy could play a bluff far better than the hopeless gambler already seated at the table. After all, he had worn another boy’s face for weeks, successfully duping even his father into believing him a stranger. Then withstood a terrible beating to fool Van Eck senior a second time to save them all on the day of the auction.

 

_Yes,_ she thought. _Wylan was more than capable_. Really, he and Jesper were a good match – their personalities and skills complementing each other’s very well.

 

Inej eased back on her rafter, stretching her legs out before her and leaning her back against a support beam. Pulling out another cold waffle, she allowed herself a small moment of regret that she could not risk crunching on some popcorn instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter today to tide you all over - I'm going away for a few days so next update probably won't be until next Tuesday. Enjoy - this is my favourite chapter so far and it was heaps of fun to write!


	6. Chapter 6: Dinner Date

**~Jesper~**

“Novyi Zem?” Jesper wasn’t sure that he had heard right.

 

“Yes. It’s a traditional recipe. We used to have a Zemeni housekeeper who made it for me a few times. I only prepared it myself once before though, so there’s a good chance I forgot something important and it won’t taste right. Pictures are only so helpful when it comes to cook books! So I’m sorry if it’s not quite how you might remember it from back home. Your mum probably made it heaps better than I ever could anyway.”

 

Wylan had paused for a moment, and a melancholy expression had flashed across his face.

 

“Also, sorry if it brings back any... sad memories of your mum. That’s the last thing I intended. I just knew that you’re still really worried about your dad and I thought you might like something to connect you to him.”

 

Jesper could only stare, bemused, as the other boy eventually talked himself into silence. Wylan was _rambling_! But remarkably, not a blush to be seen. There was some air of new confidence about him that Jesper had rarely, if ever, seen before.

 

And the words he had said... the thoughtfulness behind his preparations for this meal. No – looking around at the multitude of platters and dishes that currently tested the fortitude of Wylan’s new dining table, Jesper realised that ‘meal’ was far too insignificant a word to describe Wylan’s efforts. Jesper was truly touched. He found himself sitting up a little straighter in his chair.

 

“Wy...” his voice was coated with awe. “You made me a Zemeni feast?”

 

“I prefer to think of it as a Zemeni-inspired banquet, but... yes. Is... is that okay?”

 

From the intensity with which those piercing blue eyes searched out his own, Jesper could tell that his wayward prince was freaking out more than a little about how he would respond.

 

Jesper was tempted to make some glib remark, laughing his way out of an emotionally charged situation, just as he usually did. The words fell cold on his tongue, however. His nose had been accosted by a new, powerful fragrance.

 

Wylan had uncovered one of the serving platters, and a wave of nostalgia had smashed Jesper across the face as surely as if the other boy had backhanded him with his fist.

 

Where in Ketterdam had that sneaky merchling managed to get his hands on Jesper’s favourite childhood food? It had been years since Jesper had breathed that scent, and it was not for lack of searching on his part.

 

Memories of his childhood washed over him. Events, feelings, people that he had not thought about in years. The rush of colour and emotion was overwhelming. And through it all, his mother’s face smiling down at him.

 

Jesper blinked rapidly, trying to remember himself. He was not in Novyi Zem. He was not a child. He was a grown man – or close to being one, anyway – and a wonderful boy sitting across from him had cared for him enough to bring his mother back to him, all the way to Ketterdam.

 

That same boy was still seeking out Jesper’s gaze, trying to figure out how his gift had been received.

 

Jesper tried to subtly draw in a calming breath, but his body betrayed him as another wave of the food’s fragrance hit him afresh. He cleared his throat noisily. He definitely was _not_ fighting back a tear right now. Nope. No way.

 

“You really are something, Wy. Just... thank you.”

 

The wide-mouthed grin that he was rewarded with shot sparks down his already frazzled nerves.

 

Needing something, anything, to break the tension of the moment, Jesper stood abruptly, busying himself with uncorking the wine bottle.

 

There were few perks to growing up effectively as a Barrel orphan – but no one giving a damn about how old you were if you wanted a decent drink was definitely one of them.

 

Jesper was generous with the volume he poured into each of their wine glasses. He didn’t bother to ask Wylan if he wanted any. After all, the other boy was the one who had prepared the bottle. He must have foreseen that a bit of liquid courage could be just the thing they needed to smooth the night along.

 

Clever merchling.

 

**~Wylan~**

 

So far, so good. Jesper’s reaction had been... perfect. True, he hadn’t actually tasted the food yet, but Wylan had a feeling it wouldn’t matter now. The gratitude and depth of emotion the other boy was experiencing were obvious.

 

Obvious, at least, to Wylan. He knew Jesper, knew his mannerisms. He understood with perfect clarity why he had reached for the liquor, and so he did not object when his glass was filled – over-filled, really – in front of him.

 

It was as if all of the doubts and worries that had seemed so insurmountable over the last seven days and nights had simply just... fallen away.

 

_This_ was how things were between them. _This_ was why Wylan had felt brave enough to face down his father; why he had invited the other boy to share his home.

 

Wylan _knew_ Jesper in a way that he couldn’t fully explain, not even to himself.

 

So although he was still unsure of where this night would take them, Wylan eased himself back to sit a little more comfortably in his chair. The muscles in his neck that had been taught with anxiety and tension relaxed, and Wylan even felt the mask he was wearing slip off a fraction – although he was not yet ready to part with it entirely.

 

Jesper had finished pouring the wine and was now back in his seat, awkwardly fidgeting with the bottle, his eyes periodically flicking over towards Wylan in a way that he must have thought subtle.

 

The corner of Wylan’s mouth twitched, and he made sure to hold Jesper’s gaze the next time he glanced at him.

 

“A toast,” he proposed, lifting his glass to hover between them.

 

Without breaking his stare, Jesper found his own glass and raised it in what he must have hoped was a nonchalant manner. Wylan knew better.

 

“What are we drinking to?” It was the voice of the Gambler – the boy who loved long odds and impossible rewards.

 

Wylan smiled.

 

“To two mothers who kept our childhoods innocent, and guided our past selves to find each other here, in this moment. And to a future full of possibilities.”

 

He confidently closed the space between their hands, clinking their wine glasses together. Jesper, for once, seemed frozen in place, not a single part of him in motion as he processed Wylan’s words.

 

Again, he understood. He knew what Jesper needed.

 

With an easy smile and a series of smooth motions, Wylan uncovered the next dish and began serving up the meal onto their plates.

“Dig in – eat up while it’s hot, Jesper!”

 

The sound of his name seemed to rouse the Zemeni, and he took a big gulp of wine before launching into the food – the food of his mother’s people – with some of his usual gusto.

 

Wylan could only watch for a moment, a smile dancing over his lips. He had made Jesper happy tonight – he was sure of it. The night was already a success.

 

He tucked into his own plate feeling perfectly content.

 

**~Inej~**

The Wraith felt like she was at the theatre, watching some terrible lovechild of comedy and tragedy. Her friends were putting on a show, all right, and it was by turns frustrating and inspiring to watch. The dynamic between the two boys appeared to be constantly shifting. First one would flirt while the other blustered, then something would change and the other would take the lead, leaving the first without solid ground beneath him. Their little dance was beautiful to watch, and Inej thought it reminded her of an elegantly choreographed sparring match between gifted opponents.

 

Honestly, Inej had expected Jesper to be the forward one, leaving Wylan a blushing mess as usual. But instead, their little demolitions expert seemed to have blown Jesper’s senses away with his thoughtful choice of cuisine and bold toast. Inej herself had been moved close to tears.

 

There was a long way to go yet until the final curtain on this particular performance, and the second act could still have some surprises in store for the boys. But Inej was _fairly_ confident that this story would have a happy ending.

 

Her boys had just needed a little _nudge._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus! I went away for a few days and then got swamped by work when I got back. Hope you enjoy this update!


	7. Chapter 7: A Little Night Music

**~Jesper~**

The meal passed in a blur of flavours and memories, new and old. Jesper found himself often transported back again to those precious moments of his childhood, and each glimpse of his mother’s smiling face in his mind would send a jolt of electricity through him. Not unlike the feeling he got from drinking in the little smiles that Wylan kept sending his way. They had not spoken much while they ate, but the silence had been a comfortable one. Jesper chose to believe that the awkwardness that had defined their relationship over the past week had been left firmly behind them.

 

His cutlery clinked as he pushed his plate away, full to the brim. He pushed his chair back to lean his weight on its back legs, and breathed a contented sigh.

 

“That was completely perfect, Wy. You should be careful or I could get used to you cooking like this all the time.”

 

Wylan, who had finished his own meal some time ago and had been sitting politely waiting for Jesper to finish, merely produced another of those small smiles that were driving Jesper mad, his blue eyes twinkling.

 

“That was the idea, Jes.”

 

Jesper could only watch on, too full to move, while the damn merchling began efficiently stacking the used dishes back onto the serving trolley that had been retrieved from the kitchen, tidying the multitude of plates away in the blink of an eye. Jesper was usually the one with the unstoppable energy, but at this moment he wanted to know where Wylan’s power source was.

 

The sounds of running water and dishes clinking softly against each other came from the kitchen. Truth be told, it was kind of soothing to listen to. It felt like no time at all had passed before Wylan came sauntering out again. His confidence seemed to drop with every step he took towards Jesper, however. It was almost as if he had only now realised that the set part of the evening was over – the part that he had planned and orchestrated with great finesse. What they did next was completely open to possibility.

 

Jesper decided to take pity on the other boy as he drew closer to the table, uncertainty plain to see on that damn face he liked so much.

 

Swinging his chair back to sit on its proper four legs with a small thump, Jesper rose as smoothly as his long limbs would allow him to and reached for the wrapped parcel that still lay undisturbed in the centre of the table. Wylan had paused in his approach, watching Jesper warily, so he stepped forward to reduce the space between them. Grey eyes met blue.

 

“I made this for you. Only – don’t open it here. Let’s go to the music room.”

 

Jesper didn’t wait for a response before loping off towards the room with the grand piano as its centrepiece. He was feeling restless again – it had come on suddenly. The peace he had felt at dinner was gone. He was probably just feeding off Wylan’s nerves.

 

Or maybe he was just scared to admit he was worried that the younger boy would not like his gift.

 

**~Wylan~**

_“I made this for you.”_

 

Wylan walked in a stunned silence, following blindly after the Zemeni in the low light.

 

 Jesper had not just gotten him a gift, but had made it himself? With his own hands? Wylan didn’t care what it might be. He was determined to treasure it.

 

Head bowed low and lost in thought, Wylan almost missed the trail of flower petals that were leading them to the music room. Almost. Jesper really had thought of everything.

 

Wylan didn’t really believe in any gods – his father’s devotion to Ghezen had not exactly endeared the God of Commerce to him – but he felt that he should give thanks to some kind of spirit for the blessing to his life that was Jesper Llewellyn Fahey.

 

Maybe he would ask Inej to teach him about her Saints.

 

Entering the music room, Wylan gravitated naturally towards the piano stool. Although the flute was his great love, Wylan had some passable skill as a pianist as well. The stool was his place here – another of those small sanctuaries that he had managed to carve out in his father’s house.          

 

Seating himself at the instrument, Wylan began absently tapping a light melody on the keys, the bulk of his attention on Jesper’s unfocussed meandering around the room. Why had he asked him to come here if he was just going to get distracted immediately? Wylan’s gaze, fondly following the Zemeni’s movements, was caught abruptly by the sheet music laid open in front of him. He didn’t recognise it, but supposed it must have been from one of Alys’ lessons. The melody beneath his fingers transitioned smoothly from unstructured imagining to... something more. It was a bold, striking tune, yet somehow also tenuous, hopeful, uncertain – the first steps of new romance. It was a dance, Wylan realised, with the bass and the treble lines weaving in and out of each other like two lovers caught in the thrill of the tease and chase.

 

Wylan found himself wishing for his flute, tucked safely away in his room. The mastery behind this composition demanded that he honour it with the instrument of his heart.

 

The music went on and on, drawing Wylan further into its depths. Here the treble twittered and pranced; there the bass bowed and stepped neatly around. Now the lovers stepped carefully around one another; here they came together for a breathless moment before there the tune carried them apart once more. Call and response, echo and rejoinder. On and on the music ran, until the dance slowly wound to its natural conclusion and the lovers, exhausted, embraced at last.

 

The sound of applause beside his ear drew Wylan out of the powerful imagery the music had evoked. Jesper was by his side; no longer pacing, no longer restless, but staring at Wylan with an intensity that made his stomach backflip in a way that was not entirely unpleasant.

 

Wylan matched his gaze for a few moments, before curiosity got the better of him.

 

“Are you ever going to give me my gift, or do I have to sing for my supper some more first?”

 

Jesper blinked, lips curving into a wicked grin.

 

“I could think of more interesting ways for you to earn this.” Wylan felt the tell-tale signs of his face and neck heating, and Jesper’s grin only broadened. “But I’ll take pity on you this one time.”

 

Wylan glanced down at the wrapped parcel in Jesper’s outstretched hands. It was rectangular in shape, long and slim. Tentatively, he accepted the package and slid the ribbon off. His eyes strayed back to the Zemeni’s as he delicately removed the layer of wrapping paper, only to uncover a plain black box. With careful movements, he lifted the lid, at last revealing the gift within.

 

Resting on a bed of soft velvet was the most beautiful flute Wylan had ever seen.

 

In many ways it was much like any ordinary flute, including the one currently tucked away in his bedroom. But interspersed with the keys, _intertwined_ , in fact, at times with the keys – Jesper had somehow crafted raised pieces of metal to spell out the letters of Wylan’s name. Years of painful repetition had allowed him to read at least this much, but Jesper had not shaped the letters from any form that Wylan recognised. Rather, they were written in the one language that he could read fluently.

 

Music.

 

Each letter was composed of the delicate lines and swirls that translated into the sounds he loved to create. Wylan ran his fingers tenderly over the keys. Crotchets, quavers, slurs and rests – all were employed with masterful artistry to declare to the world whose instrument this was.

 

His old flute might have been with him for many years, but ultimately it had been purchased for him by his father. With such an alternative available to him – such a heartfelt and beautiful gift – well, Wylan knew immediately that he would not play the old flute again. At least not for the foreseeable future. It would continue to reside in the drawer in his room – while the work of art in his hands would take pride of place in the music room.

 

Maybe he could use it to create new memories with his mother. Maybe they could play duets one day, with her accompanying his flute on voice or piano. Perhaps music could save Marya Hendricks as it had saved her son.

 

All of these thoughts passed through his mind in the space of a few moments. When he thought to look up at Jesper, he realised that the other boy was staring at him again, but this time pacing restlessly.

 

Still cradling the precious flute in one hand, Wylan held out his other hand and grabbed Jesper’s arm, causing him to still immediately. An intense look passed between the boys. Wylan smiled faintly, trying to convey some part of the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.

 

“Thank you, Jes,” he breathed. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”

 

“I don’t know,” Jesper quipped, “You look in a mirror every day.”

 

A strangled laugh cracked out of him, and then Wylan was grinning freely at the wonderful boy in front of him.

 

A heartbeat passed.

 

Another.

 

“I suppose you could say this was our first date, merchling.”

 

“It was perfect,” Wylan declared, and pressed his lips against Jesper’s.

 

**~Inej~**

Inej let out a silent whoop and waved her arms in the air triumphantly. But as the kiss between her two friends deepened, the broad grin faded from her face. Suddenly, Inej felt uncomfortable, as though she were intruding upon something that she had no business seeing. Which, to be fair, is exactly what she was doing.

 

Inej slipped out of the house and allowed her feet to wander as they chose.

 

She had done what she had set out to do; she had pulled off the job that she assigned to herself.

 

She had given her friends the push that they had seemed to need to find their way back to each other. Hopefully, they could create their own happiness from here on out.

 

Happiness.

 

Inej reflected on the concept. Her own life, of course, was still a mess. True, she was free now. Free from Tante Heleen, free from the Old Man, free even from her crew, if she wanted to be – their last job was done, after all. She was rich, so her dream of owning a ship to go after slavers was now a tangible possibility. The freedom of the high seas awaited her.

 

Yet truly, Inej knew that she was lying to herself. True freedom remained elusive for her. Not while she remained beholden to Kaz-bloody-Brekker. She owed that damn boy so much, and it made her furious. She had never _asked_ for him to pay off her indenture. Never requested that he liquidate all his assets and sell his shares in Fifth Harbour and the Crow Club just to find a way to save her from Van Eck. Yet he had also made it painfully clear that he wanted nothing further to do with her. He was incorrigible! She prayed to her Saints to give her strength.

 

Inej pulled up short as she realised exactly where her traitorous feet had led her in her distraction.

 

She was kneeling, perched on a familiar rooftop – one she recognised as belonging to the building next to the Slat.

 

She was peering directly into Kaz Brekker’s top-storey window.

 

Inej let out a muted growl of frustration. This had to be some kind of cruel joke that her Saints had played on her. She had allowed her mind – and her feet – to wander, as she pondered happiness. And they had led her here.

 

A silent tear caressed Inej’s cheek. She allowed it to drip onto her hand as she stared unwaveringly at the window ledge in front of her and all it represented.

 

Coming here was pointless. She and Kaz had made their choices. It was obvious they had reached the same conclusions, because neither had made any attempt to communicate since the day of the auction. True, the Wraith had continued to bring the new Boss of the Dregs secrets from the world outside, but that was hardly the same thing.

 

In all the ways that counted, she and Kaz just could not work. She was determined to chase slavers around the oceans. Kaz’s future was bound to Ketterdam and to the Barrel. And even if they ever managed to be in the same place at the same time, they were both so hopelessly damaged. They had tried – Kaz had tried – but she didn’t want to spend her life settling for a mere fraction of the warmth that she craved and deserved. Warmth that she _needed_ to help her overcome demons of her own. Warmth that her father had described to her.

 

The thought of her parents roused Inej to her senses. She rose to her full height, and wiped her eyes dry with the edge of her sleeve. After a long moment, she tore her gaze away from that room where she knew that Kaz was even now sleeping – so near to her, and yet impossibly far.

 

Inej turned and began the long journey across her rooftop road, back towards the home she shared with her friends. While her parents remained out there somewhere, with hope in their hearts about her safety, Inej could not remain in Ketterdam. She owed it to them and to herself to at least attempt to find them. Inej was under no illusions about how difficult such a task would be – she knew better than most the wandering and unpredictable camping habits of the Suli people. Yet she would try.

 

Which really made her decision to leave Kaz behind... inevitable.

 

Whatever lay ahead of her, her journey to happiness would not end with Kaz Brekker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I'm very sorry for how long this update has taken - there was a lot of ground I wanted to cover and I had to re-think a few things about where the next part of this fic would go. On the plus side, I think I have a better idea now about the outline for the next few chapters, and also you get to enjoy a super long chapter so I hope this makes up for the wait. This is definitely not the end of this fic! You will start to see some of the other characters come into it more from now on, and the format with the rolling perspectives might change. Or maybe not. We will see! But I predict that updates will be quite slow from now on, so please be patient with me. Thank you as always for all the kudos and kind words - I really appreciate every comment and it definitely helps inspire me to keep writing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction so I welcome any and all constructive feedback.
> 
> The next few chapters are already written so I will be updating fairly soon. However, I don't get much time to write during the week after work so I'd rather space them out so you guys aren't left waiting for too long.


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